


The Temperature of Pain

by scribblemyname



Series: Liquid [1]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Angst, Breakup, F/M, References to Cheating, Two-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:59:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/pseuds/scribblemyname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two-Shot. If you play with fire, you're gonna get burnt. John/Rogue/Bobby</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scalds

She never was one for hot tea, let alone the kind that John would hand her in the middle of the night when they both were up with nightmares and he set his fire ablaze around the mug.

"Let me warm it up."

He'd look at her and his dark eyes would be darker than night and darker than the black sea crashing over her when she fell into her dreams and could not wake. Drowning in those fiery, liquid shadows in his eyes.

Rogue would smile, just softly. "Thanks."

She liked her tea cold and sweet on a hot, sticky Mississippi afternoon, sitting on the front porch swing. She liked the way Cody would laugh at her from the doorway while she read aloud from a book on the far side. The distance pleased her. Coy and proper was the way of a Southern belle.

John likes everything hot. She tastes his tea. It scalds her tongue.

She sips it gently, slowly, with long, spicy pauses in between. That's how she takes his fire, his drive, his shadowy eyes that would not let her go. It never stopped with the apple in Eden. He is nothing if not persistent, and he didn't let her go without a fight. Flirt, laugh, be friends. Back away from the fire. Don't wanna get burnt.

It was an endless circle, Bobby and John, whirling around Rogue like hot tea swirling in her cup. She didn't say yes, she didn't say no. A lady always took what was offered.

His dark eyes burn.

She takes another sip and lets it scald.


	2. Breaks

He never was one for hot tea, always liked everything cold as the ice that flooded his veins, never knew that ice was fragile and water on the rocks was only the sign of a relationship that should never be. She took what he offered, always that lady, still dancing with fire, still dancing with ice.

If fire melted ice, then why did they always break?

Rogue used to sit nights down in the kitchen with John, sipping hot tea and melt off the edges where the ice had cracked.

She sees Mystique's eyes in Bobby's when he walks in from the ice, denying there was anyone else out there and that they were doing anything that mattered. He pours himself some water, freezes cubes into the glass. Eyes that lie and ice that cracks.

She always liked her tea cold and sweet on a hot and sticky Mississippi afternoon, rocking on a porch swing, never dreaming of New York winters and ice skating on frozen ponds out on mansion grounds, breathing in the cold condensation of her boyfriend's kiss.

Skin touches skin, and the ice cracks.

"Ya were with Kitty. Ah _saw_ you." Rogue waits for him to admit it, wishes that John would melt away the cracks and help her forget.

Too hot, too cold.

He flushes but does not speak.

She takes her tea, hot, so hot, and dumps in ice just to watch it break.


End file.
